


Custody Dispute

by songwithnosoul



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Handplates (Undertale), Child Abuse, Gen, Smoking, Trauma, ukagaka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-13 16:49:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18473062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songwithnosoul/pseuds/songwithnosoul
Summary: Dr. Gaster has grown used to his own periodic abductions at the hands of a human with strange powers and stranger whims, but when they begin taking his test subjects as well he begins to fear disaster on the horizon. But humans will do what they want, and leave monsters to deal with the consequences.Based on Zarla's Handplates series.





	Custody Dispute

**Author's Note:**

> This work is based on [Zarla's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarla/pseuds/Zarla) [Handplates](https://www.deviantart.com/zarla/gallery/57456341/Handplates) series, and particularly based on Zarla's [Handplates Gaster Ukagaka](https://www.deviantart.com/zarla/art/Dr-Gaster-Ukagaka-Ghost-717006919) and the interactions between The Human and Gaster therein. If you're not familiar with Handplates, you might find this hard to follow.

“Gaster, you need to calm down.”

The human’s words make Gaster’s bones prickle.

“I don’t know what your problem is. Why can’t you just trust me already?”

The complaint is old, well-worn, and their put-upon tone is familiar, but there’s a new menace to it now.

The human is holding Subject 1.

“Haven’t I proven myself by now?”

They hold him easily, and firmly, in one arm.

“Haven’t I done all the right things?”

They run their free hand lightly over the small skeleton’s head.

Gaster flinches. “Don’t—!” He swallows the rest of the plea down.

“See, this is what I’m talking about.” The human shakes their head. Their hand keeps moving. “I’m not even hurting him. See?”

The human is close, and Gaster should be able to reach them. His fingers flex with the desperate desire to act. But his feet are heavy, dragging, and however he tries to move they remain just out of reach.

He forces his voice steady. “Surely… surely this is all unnecessary. I can understand your interest in me, given my considerable intellect and achievements, but these two do little, know nothing…” Have _done_ nothing. “Surely they can’t be of any use to you.” He falters for a moment. “So, just give them back. Leave them out of this. Please.”

Gaster isn’t even sure if they’re listening.

He has to crane his neck to see them in their perch, high above where he’s trapped. To see Subject 1, asleep and helpless in their grasp.

He tries to reach out with his magic, to pull the little skeleton to him, to some semblance of protection, and feels it smother and die on his hands.

“I’ll give them back when I’m done,” the human says dismissively. They aren’t even looking at Gaster as they speak to him. They gaze down at Subject 1 instead. “Why do you have to be like this? Can’t you even tell me _that_ much?” Their finger traces the lines on the back of the little skeleton’s head where the bones meet. Subject 1 doesn’t feel it – he’s so still, not a snore or a twitch or even a breath in his ribcage. Gaster feels the contact instead, light and sharp as a knife tracing teasing patterns over his bones. He winces.

The human sighs. “I’m starting to think that you’re just impossible to please.” They slide their hand up to the top of Subject 1’s skull. “I’m not sure why I even try. What’s the point if nothing’s going to change? Maybe I should just…”

The human falls contemplatively quiet, leaving the thought to linger, unfinished and uncertain. Their petting hand lies still. Gaster stills too as they catch his gaze. The human shifts, adjusting their grip, loosening it. They carefully lift their hand away from Subject 1’s head—

And bring it back down as a fist.

“No!”

An explosion of dust. The human is coated in it. They shake themself off and grin, then lean forward to watch Gaster with sharp, eager eyes.

“Sorry about that! I just wanted to see the look on your face. That was pretty good!”

Gaster shakes. His ribcage feels crushed, coming apart with every shuddering breath.

Dust is falling. It sifts between his fingers, through the holes in his hands, mixing with the dirt beneath him and becoming lost. There’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“Huh, you actually seem upset. You do remember you made _two_ of them, right?”

Dust is trickling onto his skull, seeping into his eye sockets. It’s all he can taste.

Subject 2 is hugging the human, so tightly that the green glow of his eyes is almost smothered against their body. The human slides an arm around him in return, holding him in place. Their look is almost mischievous.

“Hey, Gaster! Check this out!”

The scream of fear and betrayal slices into Gaster’s SOUL.

This time, the violence is neither fast nor quiet. Subject 2 pleads, over the sound of cracking bone, for sense and mercy, before dissolving into sobs and cries for his brother and for a man whose name he has never been allowed to know. Gaster claws at the walls containing him, digging his fingers in, desperate for purchase, desperate for _anything_ to do other than being left to listen. But all he can manage is scoring furrows in the dust. It’s pouring in, rising up past his knees. He inhales it with every breath, mingled with the charred scent of battlefield. It collects on his ribs and the inside of his mouth. Subject 2’s cries echo so deafeningly in his head that he can’t tell if they’ve finally stopped.

Something long and solid bounces off of his head. He barely flinches, barely notices, until he processes the familiarity of its shape. The next instant, he’s scrambling through the dust to find it. The arm is almost camouflaged within the dust, and it’s sinking. It’s badly damaged, the humerus bent, the ulna shattered, possibly irreparably, but Gaster clings to it. It’s something to salvage.

Metal glints on the limp hand. A plate, screwed directly onto the metacarpals. The etched letters silently accuse: WDG.

Gaster jumps to his feet. For a moment his mind reels with disorientation, echoing screams and the taste of dust blocking out all other sensations. Then the intensity fades and the world grows coherent again. He’s _there_. With the human.

His hands are empty.

Subject 2! Where—! Gaster hunts around the small space, scouring the edges of the human-made prison, kicking aside a discarded blanket and then shaking it out, looking for any evidence of the other skeleton’s presence. He doesn’t know whether to expect dust, or shattered pieces that could possibly be mended back into a whole. However he looks, he finds neither. There’s nothing to be found.

He turns on the human. “Where is Subject 2? What have you done with him? Return him to me at—at once!” Even to him, the demand sounds hollow. He clenches his fists and tries to hold steady.

The human looks at him with confusion, and something else… something that looks disgustingly like concern. After seeming to puzzle his words over for a moment, they speak. They say that they didn’t do anything to either of the brothers, and that the two should be in the lab where he left them, but that he’d been asleep and had probably had a nightmare.

A nightmare? He glares at them. It must be another human taunt. The violence had been so vivid… Except, now that his mind has begun to settle after his initial alarm, he finds the memories are fading, becoming fragile and unreal. And he still can’t see a trace of dust anywhere. Not on the environment, not on him, not on the human.

His phone is out of his pocket in an instant. He has to be sure. His fingers fumble on the keys, and he hesitates for a moment before opening the app.

They’re both in their cell. Asleep. Together. Intact. Gaster watches their breaths, tiny movements on such a small screen, and lets out a long breath himself. He stares and studies the scene until the reality of their survival begins to sink in.

Something moves in his peripheral vision and he snaps the phone defensively shut. If the human thinks they can just watch over his shoulder—! But they aren’t approaching. Instead, they’re holding out a cigarette. The offer is familiar but this time he hesitates, recalling the laughter and pitiless fascination. But those memories are fading too, and after a moment temptation wins out and he takes it. He watches them withdraw and then lights it and returns to his phone. His attention is too divided to properly savour the cigarette, but he does begin to loosen. The physical relief of smoking clears his mind, dissolving away the lingering horror to a dull memory.

Now that he’s thinking clearly, he can recognize the dream’s ridiculousness. It had been incoherent and nonsensical, the circumstances and environment changing without cause or warning, or even his notice. Even if such a thing were within the scope of the human’s strange powers – which Gaster assumes based on his observations not to be the case – he would certainly have noticed, whatever else was going on at the time. And he’s hardly even begun work on the pl—

The cigarette crumples between his teeth. Ugh. He must’ve bitten down on it absent-mindedly. Sloppy. Well, it’s about spent anyway. He stubs the mangled butt out.

The human is eyeing him, looking thoughtful and still slightly concerned. It’s irritating. “What?” he snaps. He’s in no mood for another lecture about how smoking is bad, even though he doesn’t even _have_ any lungs to pollute.

They say that it’s gotten pretty late and they’re going to send him home now.

Gaster closes his phone. “Finally. I thought you’d never get bored.” He turns dismissively away from their questioning gaze. A few moments later, he’s back in his lab.

He’s at his desk. Everything is still left in the unfinished state in which he’d been forced to abandon it when the human had summoned him, far too many hours ago. He glances past a stack of CORE readings that will almost certainly cost him another sleepless night and his gaze lands for a moment on his computer monitor, now showing a screensaver. He turns away and hastens out of the room. He doesn’t slow until he sees the blue glow of the beams lighting up at his approach.

They’re still there, just as he had seen on his video feed. Still undisturbed. He half-expects them to vanish tauntingly just as he arrives, but nothing happens. It _is_ the middle of the night; perhaps the human intends on actually sleeping, rather than abducting children and throwing their schedules even _further_ into disarray. He can hope.

Gaster steps as close to the beams as he can safely manage. He sees no signs of damage or tampering on the subjects. No cracks or breaks. No awkwardly-held limbs or contorted positions suggesting hidden pains as they lie curled together in sleep.

They look peaceful.

He _should_ be able to be certain of their presence, and their safety, but the human’s interference has stolen that from him. He can’t even be certain that they’ve never taken the subjects without his knowledge.

He hovers his hand indecisively in front of the touchpad on the wall for a moment before turning away. No. It would be counter-productive to wake them and disrupt their sleep schedules even further. He can administer physical exams in the morning, if necessary.

That is, if the human doesn’t take him, or them, first.

For the moment, the subjects are safe. The _project_ is safe. But with a human involved, it’s only a matter of time before that changes. The disruptions had been manageable when it had only been him the human was taking, but by taking the subjects they’ve gone too far.

He takes one more look at the pair, sleeping securely in their cell, before turning away. The CORE readings can wait. Even reviewing the footage of the cell for any unexpected disruptions can wait. This problem can’t wait.

His mind is already racing with ideas, possibilities, plans to thwart or block the human’s control over him. Defenses against their power. Ways to fight back.

He’s determined.

He’s going to do something about the human.

**Author's Note:**

> Specific _Handplates_ comics which inspired parts of this fic: [But it's the only way](https://www.deviantart.com/zarla/art/But-it-s-the-only-way-671692527), [Hey you didn't wash your hands](https://www.deviantart.com/zarla/art/Hey-you-didn-t-wash-your-hands-672971551), [You two doing okay over there](https://www.deviantart.com/zarla/art/You-two-doing-okay-over-there-594696495). Another element of the dream was semi-inspired by [this](https://suika-wa-sui-ka.tumblr.com/post/183070720738/zarla-s-hang-in-there-w) excellent Handplates fanart by [suika-wa-sui-ka](https://suika-wa-sui-ka.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.


End file.
